Hand in the Dark Chapter 1
by tokidokismile
Summary: My first submission, please be kind ! A short work, where Jason Brody learns about the pasts of some Rook Islands key characters, from someone caught in the middle of the turmoil (OC). What does it take for a man to become a monster? Can this cycle be broken? And for those souls is redemption possible? If I continue this story it will get more intense in several aspects.


_The girl stopped looking up from her book, her hand keeping her place. She was sitting at the base of a tall, slanted palm tree on the hill behind the tiny shack below. The rumbling of the old diesel bus echoed loudly, as it struggled to make its way up the steep hill to the village accompanied by the smell of the exhaust in the air. _

_A smile spread across her face as she closed her book, and dashed down to the shack. Her sandals slapping loudly as she slid down the grassy hill. She shrugged her shoulder trying to adjust the lose string of her dingy faded blue tank top. She squeaked as she tripped and stumbled catching herself as just short of hitting the building._

_"He's back, he's back!" The girl cried poking at the window, the older girl inside smiled._

_"Don't climb through the window!" She scolded. The girl made a face, as she ran around to the open door. Down the hill near the general store she could see the other men from the village unloading from the bus._

_She ran inside and took a seat the table. It was warm inside the small shack, but it smelled of food from the stew cooking on the fire pit outside. She looked back at the girl as she set her book down on the table._

_"Citra, how's the old man?" The girl asked twisting in her chair._

_"The old man?" She asked shaking her head. "Malak is good. I'm learning a lot about the tatau of our people. Do you want to learn?"_

_ "Can I?" She asked. The girl smiled at her._

_ "Mari, what I learn. I teach you." She replied._

_"I'm home!" A male voice called as the familiar figure appeared at the door, the girl whipped her head around to the see his smiling face as he slung his bag off his shoulder ruffling his shaggy black hair._

_"How was the job?" The girl asked turning to look at her brother, as she joined the younger girl at the table._

_He clicked his tongue, as he pulled of his sweat-stained white tank top. He stepped into the other room grabbing another shirt from the stack of boxes near the bed._

_Her brow furrowed, put off by both his response and slinging the dirty shirt into the bedroom so nonchalantly. _

_"Hey, how is my little sister?" He smiled, as he rolled up the sleeves of his discolored plaid shirt as he took a seat at the table. Grabbing a handful of nuts from the bowl on the table with one hand as he ruffled the girl's hair with the other._

_She pouted looking at him with narrow eyes as she fixed her shoulder length black hair._

_"Not your sister." She grumbled, he smiled turning and cocking his head to look her in the eyes, his arm slipped around her shoulder. The reassuring smile that made everything seem alright, made her heart flutter._

_"Ey Nena, we are all brothers and sisters. This is our home. "_

The door closed near silently, but in the darkness the sound of desperate breaths broke her out of her memories. She opened her eyes, as she peered through the darkness. The moon hung low in the western sky casting its light through the open window.

There was an extra shadow in the dark near the door. Slowly she reached under the frame of her cot pulling the long thin knife out, slowly she slipped out of bed and without a making a single sound approached the intruding shadow.

"Make no noise." She hissed, as her blade found the shadows neck and pushed, the shadow eased back tapping against the wall, pinned. Between the wall and the point of the blade pushing into the sensitive line of its neck. The heartbeat seemed to reverberate through the blade, strong and steady as its breathing steadied.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. The two froze.

"Move, and the blade goes in." She whispered. As she paused their eyes locked through the darkness.

She switched the blade from her left hand to her right hand as she opened the door.

A bright light broke the darkness and she squinted, the man lowered the flashlight. His face was obscured by a red bandana.

"Why are you at my door?" She asked in a groggy voice, glaring up at him as she scratched her head, leaning against the door. Behind him a jeep roared down the bumpy road, the headlights blasting the scene as it came to a stop by the main road. She looked past him, to the men gathered at jeep watching.

"Uh, apologies. We are looking for a man." He stammered, adjusting the AK on his left shoulder.

"On this island?" She asked skeptically. He nodded. She looked at the man and the others at the road. "There is no man here."

He looked at her, as if unsure. Catching her eyes he paused. Sharp like knives her brown eyes pierced through him unyielding.

"I see." He nodded finally, hesitant. He seemed to want to ask more questions, but his eyes drifted to the piece of metal nailed to the part of the door. He looked back to the men at the jeep and yelled, the men responded laughing, and waved him back. He nodded again and excused himself and ran back to the jeep.

She watched him as the other men laughed at him, as they loaded onto the jeep, the lights blasted again as the patrol went on down the dirt road.

She closed the door and glanced over, her knife still resting pressed against the man's neck.

She lowly drew her knife back as she walked over to the table, picking up the matches from the table and lighting the stubby candle at the center.

She walked around the circle of light, her eyes locked with the stranger. He was tall, his brown hair shaggy and dirty, his face obscured by a dark gruff beard. A bow slung across his chest and a short sword on his belt. On his left arm she could see the familiar tribal tattoos. Taking a seat at the opposite chair. She motioned for him to take the other chair.

He looked at her, his eyes still locked with hers through the dimness of the shack. His hand reached up to rub his neck. The blade removed, the tiny indent from where it had been pressed ached. He took a seat across from her. He swallowed nervously, as his hands rested on the rough table top.

"Thank you." He replied finally, breaking the silence finally.

She nodded casually as she stood the knife on the table by the tip. The clean blade reflecting the light from the candle. Her eyes dropped down to the blade, as she watched the tip burrow in the rough wood of the table.

"A _Free_ man on _this_ island." She murmured. "No free men come here. What did you do?"

"Escaped a psychotic murder." He replied, a smile broke across her face as she raised her eyes.

"Montenegro?" She asked, he looked at her unsure. "Vaas?"

The man's faces quickly twisted from uncertainty, to surprise and finally anger. His brow furrowed his hand clenched into a fist.

"I'm going to kill him." The man growled, his eyes down cast on the table. She watched as the muscles in his arm flexed, his fist clenching as though he were crushing the villains heart that instant.

A smile broke her face as she laughed rising to her feet the knife in her hand as she stabbed the knife into the coarse wood of the table.

"Will you?" She asked her face lit ominously by the candle light. "You'll kill all the monsters?"

She exhaled deeply, her hand delicately wrapping around the hilt of the knife as she yanked the knife free.

"You don't know anything about this hell." She murmured. "Just like the others..."

She leaned over the table and blew the candle out.

"You can sleep here, or run. This island is heavily patrolled by Vaas' men and right now they're all hunting for you. They won't come here again." She explained walking towards the door, in the dark. He watched as she walked towards the door, opening it quietly and slipping out.


End file.
